


Cheap carnival mask

by MrMenace



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Peter Needs a Hug, Reunions, ok so its only the end thats happy but i swear they work things out after, this can really just be called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:49:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMenace/pseuds/MrMenace
Summary: He tried not to think about Juno too often. Thinking about it all hurt, and what was the point of changing identities and running across the galaxy if you couldn’t even get away from what would could hurt you?(Peter is sad and has bad coping mechanisms)





	Cheap carnival mask

**Author's Note:**

> im not completely caught up with season 2 yet, so this has nothing from season 2 in it. it will hopefully become not canon compliant because i want to know where my boy is, but untill peter comes back ill do whatever i want.   
> most of this is peter being sad and thinking about his different identities. i got facinated with the idea that Peter uses fake identities as a coping mechanism, so i made this.   
> i was also inspired by the lovely writers in this fandom, and im really gratefull for all the content that people make. it helps me write again, and thats something i have problems with.   
> this is only lightly edited, and posted kinda late. so sorry for any spelling mistakes or bad writing. this is crossposted on my tumblr, @sirumbraranting

Peter Nureyev had lived many lives. It was absurd, honestly. A person could get lost in all the identities he had, and sometimes peter did. It was…difficult, remembering what was actually him and what was someone else. They all had things that made them vaugley interesting, and most took a decent amount of time to make. He hadn’t been all that good at them in the beginning, throwing them away before he had much more than he started with. Used like a cheap carnival mask, only used for a day. And those could be usefull, fun even, but it never did well to do it too much. He supposed it had been a way to distance himself from Brahma, as though he were trying to desperately tell the universe that he wasn’t Peter Nureyev. But after a while of using up names, he had to admit that a more formed character was immensely more usefull if he stayed anywhere longer than a week. It had been a interesting shift, but he had found he had a talent for it. It didn’t mean that they were all good, of course. That took practice. 

But he had started somewhere, and that had been Darius Mars. 

Darius Mars had a small scar on his jaw. His knuckles were always bloody. He wore clothes that never seemed to fit, though that fact didn’t bother him. He never wore makeup, as far as anyone else could tell. He disliked – “im not scared, that’s ridiculous”-heights, and was just a tad too angry for his own good. An angry young man from a street gang on Jupiter, willing to release that anger upon anyone if he were payed enough. A thug, and not a particularly good one at that. In hindsight, it had been a mistake to pose as a thug when he didn’t have the physice for it. Darius had been one of the early ones though, and while he wasn’t all that good later he had been useful at the time. He had served his purpose, at least. 

Darius was uncomplicated, and lacked any real debth beyond being rough and angry. He didn’t have many quirks, didn’t have a specific way to move. Peter had disliked playing that role even then, even as filled with anger and confusion as he had been, and that feeling only grew with time. Though he had to admit that there had been a certain satisfying element to being so openly angry. He supposed it might have been slightly unhealthy, the way he had to distance himself from his own life to the point of being a different person to even let himself show real anger. But having to hide for his survival didn’t leave much room for conventional outlets, and there wasn’t much point in wishing it were different. Peter had learned a lot from Darius, about what parts of himself to place into the people he made up. 

Staring at the blank ID in his hands, Peter wondered what would have become of Darius Mars. Darius had died two years after Peter last used him, of course, but Darius had never quite let go of him. There were many firsts in this world, some of them left a mark on you, and your first long-term fake identity was apparently one that stuck. But even though darius was long dead, the thought of where would he be? Lingered. 

He wouldn’t be here peter thought angrily, jaw clenching. He wouldn’t be here, on mars, left in a hotel room. He wouldn’t be here, moping. He wouldn’t have fallen in love, wouldn’t have let someone hurt him, wouldn’t have been an idiot and let it all happen. 

Peter stood abruptly from the table. There was no use in thinking about that. Not really in finding a new identity, either. He didn’t need anything complicated. He only needed enough to get of mars, and he already had plenty of ways to do that.   
Peter considered, for just a moment, checking Junos office. He could talk to Juno, make sure that he understood- what exactly? He scrambled for an answer, confused at his own thoughts. Peter had made it perfectly clear that Juno could tell him to leave. He might have expected the command to be verbal, but it had been quite clear. Leaving someone in a hotel room was the equivalent of saying “I don’t want you”, and Peter really shouldn’t have expected anything different. His hope had been idiotic. 

Peter packed the rest of his bag. He carefully avoided looking at the things that had been meant for Juno (though he put them in their own case, wrapped as though anything could break them). He died his hair, and left Mars the next morning. 

 

 

 

Peter couldn’t help but look over at the small case in the corner. The contents had barely been touched. He was worried that if he did, it would cement the current situation firmer into his mind. He didn’t know, really, why he took it with him. He could barely look at it most days, the thought of what could have been overwhelming. But he took it with him, anywhere he went.

He’d gone a lot of places, after Mars. He’d even run into a quite a few people that knew other versions of him, though thank god it was all the same one. It could have gotten messy, if people who talked to eachother knew him by different names. As it was, he was about to meet with three of them. He was going as Earl River; not his favorite identity, but better than others. 

Earl River was a smuggler, though he insisted that his true calling was gambling. He spoke loud enough for the whole room to hear, and his rumbling laugh was louder. He had badly bleached hair, and clothes always just a tad too informal for the occasion. Earl wore his heart on his sleeve, and was always ready for adventure. 

Peter hated to admit it, but being Earl made him nervous. He didn’t know if he could act how he used to, didn’t know if he could pretend to be that openhearted. His chest felt like cold iron, and peter didn’t know how he could do this. bile was rising in his throat, and he was halfway through considering a getaway when a beep sounded from his watch. Peter stared accusingly at it. It was time to go

The way Earl walked was different than Peter. Peter moved quietly, gracefully. Cautious at all times. Earl practically stomped, if you could stomp without any anger. He chatted with anyone along the way, gesturing wildly. The people he was there to meet seemed to relax slightly as Earl entered the room. He had that effect on people.

“So!” his voice boomed, “what can I do for you fine people? I know, I know, its been a while, and I meant to call but you know how it is with everything. You go to send a message, then the coms break, then you have to go have words with whoever was supposed to fix it…” Earl went on, babbling. 

One of his meeting partners frowned as he did. Their head tilted, and the rest of the people seemed confused at the reaction. The one frowning, Lilah, looked at Earl thoroughly. They didn’t seem happy with whatever they thought they found staring at his face, but it was hard to tell. Peter felt ice in his stomach as he looked at them. He hadn’t done it right.

“Don’t worry, River. I know how it gets.” Lilah soothed, their eyes glowing with concern. Peter knew it was fake, only curiosity masked as something more accepted. 

“….yeah” the others agreed, suspicious. The topic changed before it really got started, and Peter could feel the beginning of a headache. This would be a long night. If only he figured out what was off, he could start some semblance of damage control. But there was no way to find out if no one would hint at it.

Eventually, it came up. 

“So, River…are you ok, bud?” the question came out slurred, Lilah half-leaning on the bar. Peter couldn’t quite tell how much of it was an act (the lady could be very convincing after all), but the question startled him. He let the surprise show on Earls face, frowning. 

“what do you mean?” the lady twirled their hair between their fingers, sighing.

“I mean….you don’t seem all that good! You just….aren’t energetic? Fuck, I don’t know” they paused and took a swig from their bottle, nose scrunching as the liquid hit their tongue. Peter glanced at the label, saw the stylized bubbles on flowers, and low number. Not as drunk as they were pretending, then. “you haven’t acted right since you stepped in the door, is all. You seem…sad”

Peter didn’t know what they were trying to get, with telling him that. There was obviously something that Lilah wanted, even if peter couldn’t see it yet. He would have suspected her lying, if it weren’t for that the information made sense (in a frustrating way).

Peter hadn’t used any other serious identities since mars. He had changed skin every few weeks, moved quicker than his thoughts could keep up. Though the new characters were always thought out, to some extent, there hadn’t been much point in regulating his behavior if it slipped. The identities were so fresh and pliable, it didn’t matter. they would be gone in a week again anyway. 

Unfortunately, Earl River was not pliable. And somehow, in the run from his own thoughts, peter had missed the way he had become visibly…sad. Peter could kick himself for such a stupid mistake. 

As Lilah stared at him with calculating eyes, Peter scrambled for something. He was lucky that Peters truth didn’t have to be bent too far for it to be Earl’s, and even more so that Earl wasn’t the kind to mention it until brought up. 

He let out a long sigh, and could practically hear the gears turning in Lilahs head. “well…its…” peter made himself pause, stop. Earl didn’t talk about negative emotions much, so he was hesitant and slightly embarrassed. “you see, I meet this lady…”

Lilah tilted their head curiously, but peter barely noticed. He was too busy screaming at himself. This is Earl, not Peter. This isn’t about Juno

“And, well, he was really nice. But it….” He could see Juno in his mind, leaving the room. Glancing back at him with disgust. 

“it didnt work out.” Peter tried telling himself that Earl wasn’t the kind of man to overshare that kind of thing, that he stayed in character by not saying anything else. Peter honestly couldn’t tell if it was true.

 

 

After the Earl River incident, Peter decided some traits for his next identity. It was slower than usual, with so many things he felt like he couldn’t do well now. He tested with some small characters, seeing what was convincing. After the reemergence and then untimely death of Mr. River, Peter was acutely aware of how out of practice he was. 

He kept changing masks like clothes, like the cheap costumes they were, until he felt slightly settled. He experimented with traits again, as though it were the first time he did. As though he were running straight from Brahma again. He quickly tried a familiar kind of charisma, hoping it would drag him out of his head. And it had to an extent, until he remembered Rex glass. 

The amount of charisma and blatant flirtation that Rex Glass exuded was frankly obscene. Rex had been planned for a long time before Miasma came along, always a distant idea. Rex had quirks, features, personality. Peter had used him a few times, for various small things. It hadn’t been easy getting into Dark Matters, but that was fine. He had always meant to get better at fooling lie detectors anyway, and Peter always enjoyed a challenge. 

He tried not to think about Rex too often. Rex had been one of his favorites, for so many reasons, but any time he thought about him his immediate thought was of Juno. And what was the point of changing identities if you couldn’t even get away from what would could hurt you?

Peter could justify to himself that thinking of the details of previous identities was helping in making a new one, but he couldn’t if he started thinking about Juno. He knew himself just well enough to realize that thinking about Juno would cause….problems.   
So he tried finding something that didn’t remind him or Juno. About Juno, Mars, mythology, Private investigators, Rex Glass, Duke Rose, and countless other things. Because it was so hard to not think about Juno. Even after a year, he still couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the beautiful lady who had stolen his heart, in a way that Peter had done to so many others. But it was always different to be on the receiving end, and the universe seemed to think this was a good way to make him pay for it all. 

 

 

Deacon Hart was the person Peter settled on. They were extremely melancholic, always staring out windows dramatically. They weren’t quiet, but were nowhere near as talkative as Peter usually played. They had a nice voice though, and good fingers. They played the piano, always in time with the singers crooning into the microphones. Peter figured that he might as well use his musical talent for something, flying across the stars. So Deacon played, and sang if someone asked. 

Peter hadn’t been using Deacon long before their band suggested going to Mars. There had been a long moment where Peter had to hold himself back, try to find what Deacon would think. But it had been hard, when all Peter could think about was Juno. Deacon didn’t say anything about what they thought about going to mars, though they did excuse themselves from the room. 

Peter couldn’t help but get distracted, as he sat ready at the piano. He was on Mars, in Hyperion city no less. He was desperately trying to keep his thoughts centered on the music, but the thought of juno showing up was slowly eating away at his mask of Deacon Hart. 

But Juno didn’t mysteriously appear. It would have been odd if he did, hyperion city was too large for change meeting like that, and peter told himself firmly to focus. 

 

Peter was finishing a slow, sad piece. The singers drug out the last notes impossibly long, their voices dipping as Peter slowed the music to a stop. Peter hadn’t listened to the piece much, too tired to really care. Being on mars had taken a toll on him that he hadn’t expected. But it would be over soon, anyway. He had sound something valuable enough to steal, and some semblance of a plan on what to do after. It had taken more than a year, but he felt like he was ready to maybe…try to keep going forward. 

He stood up as the small crowd started clapping. He bowed, painfully slowly. He wasn’t sure what made him look up, but he did. And there he saw him.   
Before peter knew what he was doing, he ran. He almost tripped over his long dress, and knocked into a startled waiter. But it didn’t matter, because Juno was there.

“Juno!” nothing mattered in that moment other than getting to Juno. Nothing. 

They crashed together, and Peter didn’t know when he had started crying. he didn’t know if the tears were all his, when he had finished kissing the beautifull lady in front of him. He only knew that Juno was holding him just as tightly as Peter clutching at him.


End file.
